


Come to the Call

by persephone20



Category: The Vampire Diaries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 08:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone20/pseuds/persephone20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens when someone represses what they really feel for too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come to the Call

**Author's Note:**

> As always, to [](http://coquilleon.livejournal.com/profile)[**coquilleon**](http://coquilleon.livejournal.com/). The mood of this was something that was based from something she sent to me in another fandom. :D

This wasn’t the first time she’d gone to him. That she’d gotten away with it last time had only led her towards promises to herself that she would never do those things again; that she would be grateful for every second that she had with Stefan; that she would never again yearn for his brother.

But all of those promises inside of her head had only lead to one thing: a constant awareness of Damon. She couldn’t stop visiting the boarding house because that was where Stefan lived and, without telling him what had gone on between her and Damon, she had no reason to want to avoid him. Damon and Stefan were getting along better now than they’d gotten along since Katherine had disappeared and they’d both become vampires. In the face of that, what were a few salacious looks from Damon when they both knew Stefan wasn’t looking.

It was one of those looks that started Elena’s discomfort this time. She wasn’t able to relax in the boarding house, merely present the facade of comfort and hope Stefan wouldn’t notice the difference. Damon noticed the difference, but Damon was conscious of Elena in ways wasn’t. He knew the exact amount of pain he would inflict upon her before enjoyment turned to upset. He knew just how much blood could be taken from her before it would start to impair her ability to function in any way outside of their private jaunts. But, most importantly, he knew the way she felt about herself. About Katherine. About the brothers.

It had taken Katherine coming out of the tomb to show Elena how much like her Elena had become. Manipulating the two brothers so that she might get her own way. Manipulating Damon so that she might more easily keep not only herself but her own loved ones out of danger, even while knowing that Damon cared nothing for the majority of the Mystic Falls townspeople, but would move heaven and earth for someone he loved.

In realising the self-loathing growing within Elena, Damon had suddenly found the upper hand. Considering the way that she had used him in the months up to this realisation, Damon found no qualms in treating her with the same manipulation.

“Stop it,” Elena hissed, now. Damon only raised his eyebrows.

“Stop what?” Damon asked innocently, knowing that Elena couldn’t say anything, not right now with Stefan just upstairs and well within hearing distance of their conversation should he listen in.

Elena shook her head and focused further on the book she’d been reading. She couldn’t, though. Although Damon returned to the respectful older brother as Stefan returned, Elena just couldn’t stay there. She pleaded illness to Stefan, who looked dutifully concerned when he asked if she wanted him to drive her home.

“I need fresh air,” Elena replied, and left.

She hadn’t lied about that need. Nor did she go straight to her house. Instead, she found herself wandering a similar path to the one that had first led her to this mess with Damon.

“Please,” she whispered, just under her breath and genuinely hoping there was no one out there to hear her call.

The wind blew the branches of trees above her head and Elena felt the coolness of it against her skin. It was refreshing. Out here, she felt like she could breathe again. Just for a few minutes, she didn’t have to mediate between all the bullshit politics and supernatural problems going on in Mystic Falls. She wasn’t completely successful in shutting down her brain, but she knew only one way to do that.

“And why should I come to the call?”

Elena swallowed. She didn’t need to see him to know he was there, lurking, always seeming within range of her words and thoughts at her lowest moments.

“Because I love you,” she said softly. It was true. She’d known it for months. She loved both brothers, but only one of them knew.

“And yet you pretend otherwise. Always pretending, Elena.” Damon came out of the shadows that had cloaked him. His tongue made ‘tsking’ noises in his mouth, and he shook his head. “Not a particularly desirable quality in a young lady.”

Elena’s lips twitched a smile, but it was without mirth. “Since when do you care about desirable qualities in young ladies?”

Damon swooped close to her, faster than her eye could follow. “I care about them in you,” he told her, and she knew it was true. If he had his wish, Stefan would know, just as Damon knew, about Elena’s feelings for both of them. It didn’t seem to matter to him if she had them both. She didn’t know why he hadn’t told Stefan himself.

There was pain in her eyes when she looked at him. He was immobile, his eyes and face without obvious emotion. She envied him that, the vampire ability to shut off emotions. Everything that she was doing lately seemed to be making things worse for herself but she knew that wouldn’t change what she was about to say.

“Take me home.”

He did.

At her house, the lights were all out. They didn’t arrive through the front door. Just like last time, Damon carried her in his arms, up to the second-storey window of her room. Unlike last time—which had been unpremeditated, beginning in a conversation in her room and ending in him leaving before she woke up—there was an awkwardness between them once they stood together in her room. This time, she was asking for this, knowing exactly what this was, knowing too that, of the two of them, she was the one with the moral compass.

Damon didn’t take his eyes off her, even after she let go of him to walk across the floor of her room.

“I... need to get changed.” She plucked at the tank top she was wearing, as if this garment of clothing were somehow responsible for the situation she found herself in. No sooner had she started to turn away did she hear his voice beside her.

“No.”

He was still standing on the other side of the room, between her window and chest of drawers. Although he could have crossed the room in a flash, he made no move to physically restrain her or coerce her to his will. His voice did that for him.

Reflexively, Elena’s hand shifted to the locket containing vervain that she wore, watched Damon’s eyes do the same. When his eyes returned to hers, there was a challenging quality to them. Both of them knew this could not be blamed on his Compelling her.

Still, she didn’t go to the bathroom. Her feet remained rooted to the floor because he had denied her running away from him. Damon’s lip lifted, though no sign of that smile reached his eyes. He held out a hand.

“Come back to me.”

Dipping her head deferentially, Elena once more crossed the carpet of her room. When she reached him once again, Damon’s extended a finger underneath her chin and forced her to look back up to him. He let that moment draw out between them a moment, then said, “I want you to look at me while I’m here. I’ll not have you imagining I’m Stefan.”

Elena opened her mouth to reply that she would never imagine him as Stefan while he was with her, but he might have thought her about to say something else, for the look in his eyes quelled her words before they came to her lips. So subdued, Elena merely nodded her head, ensuing that her eyes did not skate away from Damon’s again as she did so.

“Good,” he murmured, before drawing his finger from her jaw.

Taking that as permission, Elena backed up from him to sit down on the bed. The last time, he had taken his time with her, doing things that she’d never imagined before, things that she’d certainly not shared with Stefan, or Matt. She’d figured, when they’d come here tonight, that he would shut her brain up in the same way as he had before. That’s what she’d wanted. She’d been so tensed up since then that...

But Damon was shaking his head, and taking his shirt off, shrugging his shoulders and letting the fabric shift down the muscles of his arms. Elena couldn’t take her eyes off him and, when she returned her gaze from his arms to his eyes, she swore she saw amusement then.

“This time, it’s your turn,” he told her. Elena’s brow furrowed with confusion, and Damon stepped forward.

Lifting her hand in his, Damon brought her hand to his chest, the sides of his neck, all the time drinking in the expressions on her features. He knew he was a gorgeous man, yet it seemed to bring him a special sort of pleasure to have her enjoying him in this way. Elena decided to make the most of this opportunity. Although the guilt at what she was doing remained in her, she couldn’t quite stop herself.

The first time she tweaked his nipple, he gasped. His fingers, running up and down her arms at that time, tightened around her upper arms, nails digging into the flesh and causing her to lean forward into him. His eyes flashed with desire at this, and Elena knew she needed to be more gradual with the build up. The second time her finger tips flicked over his nipple, he growled, and took her lips with his. There was a savagery to him, one that didn’t surprise her, but that he’d kept restrained on their last time doing this or, in all their interactions previous, actually. The sight and sensation of his savagery on the surface got rid of all her thoughts, until there was only him, only this kiss, only his fingers biting into the soft skin of her arms, only the moistness gathering between her legs. She was gasping for air when he finally released her, almost swooning when he reinstated the distance between them. But he was not a patient man. When she continued to merely hold onto him for support, and didn’t progress on her exploration, Damon informed her in no uncertain terms that this would not be acceptable.

“What did I say before?” he demanded.

“This time... it’s my turn,” Elena murmured, taking a deep breath, and running her fingers up and down the sides of his torso. Many others would have been ticklish. Damon wasn’t. There also wasn’t a lot of excess skin around the muscles on his abdomen. Idly, Elena wondered whether this was just something that happened when one became a vampire, or whether her boys worked out.

Her boys. A spike of guilt ran through her at that thought. That had been the way Katherine had talked about them not long ago.

“I see my boys haven’t changed in one hundred or so years. They’ve merely changed the target of their affections.”

Damon grabbing both of her hands and restraining them painfully behind her shoulder blades snapped her attention far away from anything Katherine had ever said.

“We’re not doing this if you’re not paying any attention,” he growled, as Elena tried in vain to stretch herself into a position where the angle of her arms wasn’t quite so awful. Damon’s face came right close to hers and Elena stopped struggling. “Have I got your attention now?” he asked her.

“Yes,” Elena gasped.

With one hand, Damon tore off the tank top she’d been wearing, tossing it on the floor without any further regard. There was a slight burning sensation against the top of both of her shoulders, as of carpet burn, where the fabric had pulled before it had ripped, but Damon’s grip of her arms was still demanding more attention.

In direct juxtaposition to the pain he was inflicting, Damon’s finger nails ran feather soft over the skin of her torso, tracing the line of the bra she was wearing, and dipping so low as to the waist line of her pants, but never actually touching anywhere she wanted to be touched. Straining towards his hands only caused more discomfort for her.

“You asked me here tonight,” Damon reminded her from between gritted teeth, even as his fingers were tender against her. Elena thought a woman could become addicted to such positive and negative reinforcements from someone like Damon. She wondered, because he must have done this sort of thing before.

“I did!” she was eager to concur, making sure not to break eye contact with him lest he take further offence.

Damon nodded once, as though in satisfaction. His eyes drooped to her breasts. Undeniably pronounced just because of the angle of her arms, her breasts just seemed to be begging for the sort of attention they would get from Damon. Elena inwardly cringed in shame at the image of herself he must be seeing and yet, at that combination of shame and Damon’s attention, she could feel her own nipples reacting. The sensation of the fabric of her bra only seemed to make things worse. The smell of her own arousal floated up to her nose, so she knew he must have been able to smell it for quite some time.

Damon’s eyes eventually returned to hers, and he seemed to be waiting for something. Something like begging for him to let go of her hands, she was sure. There had been a lot of begging on her part the last time this had happened and yet, perversely, Elena was not ready to beg this early in the night. Her pride would not allow it. She stared defiantly into his eyes.

The next thing she knew, the gentle fingers that had been caressing her torso turned to her breasts and gave the left nipple a violent squeeze. Elena made a loud noise between a gasp and a moan, which had Damon’s whole hand palm and dig into her breast.

“Shh,” Damon was quick to tell her. “Wouldn’t want to wake the family unit.”

‘Wouldn’t want to’ turned out to have a completely different motivation with his eyes upon her. Elena wouldn’t want to wake them because that would make Damon angry with her, not because of the compromising position they might find her in. Silently, Elena nodded her head twice.

“That’s a good girl,” Damon said, removing that hand from her now throbbing breast. Closing her eyes, Elena tried to breathe in and out deeply and ride through the pain. But Damon was not finished with her yet.

After one further yank of her arms, Damon let them go. Elena winced as she moved her arms and tried to ease the tension between her shoulder blades, this time without making any sound.

“I believe I told you what I wanted you to be doing,” Damon told her, his deadly soft voice backed by the narrowness of his eyes.

Trying to ignore the soreness of her limbs, Elena reached out to Damon once more, aware that this time, without her tank top or his shirt, there was very little separating the two of them. Her heart fluttered a little at that. The last time, she’d been the only one wearing very little by the end. This time felt... different, somehow. Once again, shame and guilt reared their ugly heads, but Elena couldn’t pay attention to them this time. The last two rounds of punishment had been successful in what both Damon and Elena had wanted out of tonight: she became very single-minded about the task Damon had set her.

There was only so much timid touching of Damon’s chest and, by the end of it, Damon was looking as though he was about to call foul on her carrying out his order. Both of his nipples were very erect—much like she imagined her own to be—and they were easy targets as Elena leaned forward to them. The left one she kissed, gently, not sure of her welcome. The right, she bit lightly between her teeth, and felt Damon’s deft fingers undoing the bra that was the only barrier left between their top halves.

Elena let go of Damon’s nipple slowly, and Damon asserted gentle pressure against her shoulders, just daring her to argue against him. When his mouth broke the skin of her breast and began suckling not just nipple, but blood, Elena was not surprised. In fact, her eyes rolled back in her head, while her arms hung loosely around him, as she lost herself in the sensation. The connection, the desire, between them was never quite so much as when he was taking her blood. It was at these times most of all that she realised she could not give this up. Stefan too took blood from her, but not like this. With him, it was all about control, making sure he didn’t take too much, making sure she was alright, making sure he was alright. But with Damon...

With Damon, it was like everything else he did. It was full hearted, and it was passion, and it was need. Elena’s arms tightened around him at that because, on this primal level, they both needed each other.

Damon lifted his head and, through her haze, Elena lifted a hand up to wipe away the blood that had fallen to the side of his mouth. In a sort of thanks, he licked her finger, then took it inside his mouth to bite down on it, gently, because his fangs and the veins around his eyes were still out.

She would never pressure on him to speak of this need that lay between them. She had learned her lesson and learned it well. There would be no further attempting, from Elena, to manipulate Damon into being something that he wasn’t. In her clearer moments, she was squared with this idea. Sometimes, she even wished she could have met him first and, in those moments, when she realised how unfair that was, the self-loathing came rushing back because it wasn’t Stefan’s fault that all of this was so complicated.

“Elena.”

The softness to Damon’s voice surprised her. She realised that she’d accidentally looked away from him again and, as her eyes darted back to his, she was really surprised by the softness with which he’d said her name. But there was that coolness to his face again, and Elena realised he could have been feeling anything behind that face of his, and she wouldn’t have known it.

“I’m going to go. We shouldn’t do this.”

And then Elena wondered whether it was there in his words, or whether she was just imagining the baggage behind those words that seemed to be him saying he didn’t want her to be doing this because it was upsetting her. That, maybe, he didn’t want this upper hand that he seemed to have found.

“No, stay.” And if the loathing hit her with force, she thought, if she was already damned, she may as well go all the way. Then, she decided to open herself up to him in a way she hadn’t done before. “I need you.”

Damon came at her then, all previous commands of what he had wanted her to do to him gone for that moment. He touched her all over, relishing again in the feeling of her breast, treating the one he’d handled so roughly with deference, despite Elena’s pushing him to sate the craving she had for him to touch her there, touch her everywhere.

He was sliding her pants over her hips before that ugly feeling filled her again, feeding into her arousal as everything was feeding into her arousal. She’d regret parts of this later she knew but, for now, she flew defiantly into this action she had now committed to.

Afterwards, as Elena was pulling her night clothes on, they were just more memories and mental images to be used to torture her the next time she was in the boarding house with Stefan. She wondered whether Damon’s suggestive looks would continue, whether they would make her uncomfortable next time. She wondered whether she would tell Stefan, whether she would tell even Katherine, the next time one of them said something and all of her words poured out with her guilt.

She wondered too how much she was hurting Damon, whether she was just manipulating him in a new way, as he pulled on his own clothes and looked over his shoulder at her by the window. He didn’t say any words, and her words of love and need had already been said in the moment. She could think of nothing to say now, as she sat on the bed that smelled like both of them, his and her juices still sticky and moist on the inside of her thighs.

She was just a 17 year old girl, suffering with 17 year old problems, and she wondered how she was supposed to be able to do any better than the several hundred year old vampire she just happened to look like.


End file.
